


Soul deep

by LostMe



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: English is not my native language, F/M, I wanted something fluffy and certain... And then this happened, My writting lies in tragedy, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 07:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10381197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMe/pseuds/LostMe
Summary: In a world in which every magical being has a soul mark, Newt's wrists are bare.





	1. Newton

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and universe do not belong to me. It is probably a good thing.

The thing about soul marks is that, being a wizard, the name of your soul mate someday appears in your left wrist. It’s the oldest magic and the only type that nobody questions. It is also one of the most difficult to understand and easiest to live with: when both parts of a matched pair were born and named, their given name would appear on the skin of the wrist of the other part. There were different types of marks, but the most common one was in inky black: romantic partners. Finding and living with your other half was the main life goal of every single human on Earth, since it was actually impossible to live long without ever meeting them. Muggles who tried had their souls and body wasting until death inevitable came. Wizards strong enough may be able to survive without their partners for long years, but to survive is not to live. It is know, however, that the continual presence of your other half is not necessary. If your soul mate ever gift you with their magic and blood, a strong enough bond is created, enabling you to survive great distances for decades, even in death. Sometimes, widowed wizards found some comfort in day to day life and manage to live a reasonable good life. Often, bounded wizards by magic but unbounded by law who aspire different lives part amicably and conquer each their way, occasionally meeting for a meal to appreciate the company and alleviate some of their burdens and fears. It is not totally uncommon nowadays. It is, however, still a deeply unsettling thought for those who had not yet found their soul mates. It was a fleeting thought though, since as soon as the soul mark appeared and the person was of age (fourteen), they could easily find the name as registered and their families could arrange the official union at an opportunity occasion. 

Newton Artemis Fido Scamander was born on a cold morning and without his soul mark. At the time, no one made a fuss. He was just an adorable little boy whose soul mate was probably still unborn, and so life went on for the Scamander family. Four and a half years later, Newton fell from a tree and broke his left arm. Since he still did not have his soul mark, no magic could be used to cure him and so he spent the following four months wearing a cast and avoiding complaining about the awful pain he was feeling in his wrist. He wasn’t supposed to be in that tree, after all. He was the only child he knew that had to heal from every single illness, from cold to measles, on his own. Not that he knew many children. His brother, however, did. Theseus never had to stay inside their house when it was raining. Newton had to, but didn’t. He spent one third of his childhood sick and three-quarters of it alone.

At fifteen, Newton still didn’t have his soul mark and was heavily bullied for it in school. Many professionals have repeatedly told him and his parents that his soul mate was probably still unborn, that it wasn’t unheard of. But at each year that passed and his wrist remained bare, their assurances lost their conviction. People started wondering if the boy’s soul mate would be so devastatingly younger than himself, and if this person would be strong enough to share a bond with him when the time he started wasting came. It became more and more worrisome as Newton got older, since his lanky frame and shy demeanor started to border on a weak complexion and awkward mannerisms. At sixteen he got a cold that very well could have killed him and nobody on his dormitory or classes noticed until his coughing got so loud that his roommate could not sleep. The nurse that treated him was very matter of fact about it, but the house elf assisting her was very grateful that the boy was housed at Hufflepuff. The little creature was certain that had he be in any other house, instead of being asked if he needed any help the next boy would just throw a pillow on his face. At seventeen an incident on Hogwarts provoked his expulsion and only one of his professors were kind enough to ask him what happened.

“I don’t know, professor Dumbledore. Everything was fine in one moment, and the next everything was destroyed.” He replied.

“Don’t you remember the incident?” Dumbledore asked.

“No.” He replied, on the verge of tears.

“Newton, are you sure?”

“Yes, professor.”

“Have you been experiencing lapses of memory lately?”

“I… I’ve been distracted, more than usual, I think.”

“Any inexplicable bolts of feelings?”

“No… I… It is not important… I…”

Dumbledore only glared at him.

“Things appear to be more, difficult, later.”

Silently, Dumbledore asked Newt if he could see his wrist, and equally silently Newt landed his arm in his professor’s gentle hands. After a brief inspection, Dumbledore was able to tell one thing that nobody previously had been.

“My boy, your soul mark is very, very faint, but it is imbued with grief and despair. Your soul mate may be hurting, and it is affecting you.”

Newt desperately approximated his wrist to his own face to try to see said soul mark, but he couldn’t. It was known that powerful wizards had clearer vision of magical marks, and so it would appear that Albus Dumbledore was his only hope in knowing what was written. However, when asked, Dumbledore answered that unfortunately he couldn’t clearly read what was written. Neither could he say what color it was.

“It is uncommon my boy, but it is possible that your mate is so far away that the mark didn’t get the strength to fully form. It will gain strength as you two get closer.”

The week that preceded his expulsion Newt was bombarded with comments about how his soul mate killed themselves when they discovered that they were fated to someone like Newton Scamander. Newt, who has lived his whole life thinking that he was fated to be forever alone, barely paid attention. For the first time, he had hope, after all.

At nineteen he was able to complete his N.E.W.T.s (how glad he was of shaking off the jokes about a Newt without a N.E.W.T.) and started traveling the world. At twenty-four he arrived on America, feeling unexplainable anxious about this particular country. As soon as his feet touched the ground his left wrist went on fire and the words ‘Porpentina Goldstein’ were highlighted more in the hues of his irritated skin than in any traditional color. Never before have Newt ran so fast and desperately to the Magical Ministry. Finding her in the records was easy. Looking at her closed eyes and weak complexion not so.

Porpentina Goldstein was a twenty years old witch who has just left Ilvermorny and started her training to be an Auror. Exactly forty-three days previously she had inexplicably collapsed during training and not awoken since. Lying in her small hospital bed, looking so pale and frail, Newt guilty spared some seconds to ponder how beautiful she already was. After a lot of paperwork and proofing that he indeed had her name as his soul mark and explaining why it was not previously registered, Newt was able to enter her room. He shyly approached her and touched the back of her hand with one gentle fingertip. As soon as their skin touched, his name was tattooed in her apparently previously bare skin and the unconscious witch began to scream in her sleep. He was hastily removed from the bedroom and banned to wait in an uncomfortably chair for hours, just to know what he had done wrong. After many, many hours a small healer came near him and told him:

“We suspect she started to waste way because of the lack of her mate. Sometimes it is triggered by deep exhaustion or severe trauma. It is unheard of someone as young as she to go through it, but up until a few hours ago she didn’t even have any noticeable marks, so we can just be very grateful you arrived at the time you arrived.”

“What can I do for her?” Newt asked.

“It is illegal to bond an unconscious witch in this country, even in the situation she is. But if you’d be willing, gifting her some of your blood and your magic may do the trick.”

“If I do so, she will be able to live her whole life without me, right?” Newt asked, even if he already knew the answer.

“Yes. She could live her whole life without ever seeing you again, Mister Scamander. But if you don’t and she dies, she will never ever have the chance to.” The healer replied, already picking up the tools she would need to do the blood transfusion.

There really wasn’t a choice to be made, after all. Even if it meant that she would never have to return the favor or have any motive at all to get to know or to bond him. One bit of blood taken and gifted, one small kiss upon cold lips to try to transfer some of his magic to that inert and vulnerable body and the color of her skin already started to change. Newt was going to wait for her to wake up, to try to introduce himself and see if for the first time of his life he would feel like he belonged somewhere, but the feeling of a powerful legilimens running around his mind stopped him cold. As soon as he turned to see the horrified face of his mate’s younger sister, all his hope was crashed down.

She was clearly disgusted by what she could see of his mind and Newt could hear some echoes of ‘by law she would have to follow him, her career will be destroyed’, ‘of course she will bond him, she has such a good heart ’and‘ such a sad life’. Newt could not stand the girl’s stare and hastily left the room, and them the hospital altogether. Only when he was already on the street he noticed he was crying. With one uncoordinated sweep of his hand he dried the tears and headed back to the port. He was already used to be alone, never really expected to find a mate, after all. Convinced that his flick of hope was just that, a flick, and determined to not be a nuisance in anybody’s life, he left. He just got some glimpses of her pale skin so he could only imagine how truly beautiful she would be when healthy, but he already knew he loved her more than anything. He already loved her so much more than he loved himself that he just couldn’t bring himself to harm her happiness in any way. She had his name in her wrist, and would be able to track him anywhere in the world, if she so wished.

When his skin healed, the mark was a faint gray in color. He has seen that before, in the skin of those pairs in which one of them was no more themselves. In the skin of the deranged, the mad, the dead. In the skin of the unrequited. He tried to argue with himself that even if she would never love him, she would at least have a life now.That even if he was broken beyond repair, at least he made some difference in her life. That he should work hard and try to mend himself, because now he had someone with his name on her wrist. For eighteen months he worked hard in constructing something for himself, something he could offer her, but he didn’t accomplish much, and with every mistake and futile task, his heart and mind broke a little every day, until there wasn’t much left of either. When the war broke and he was convoked to fight, there was very little he could think of besides ‘If my life is to be so expendable, better to give it for something worthy’. War wasn’t worthy. Dying or killing for your country wasn’t either, he soon realized. But then, what was? Within some weeks he started working with dragons in the east front and realized that maybe those animals, which never asked to be involved in a war in the first place, were worthy his life. Maybe the feeling was reciprocal, because almost three years later, when hell broke loose, when curses were flying over the camp’s sky and a very painful end was unavoidable, just before darkness and cold could consummate his body, Newt felt the soft skin of a dragon’s wing insides wrapping around him. Dalva, as he got to call the dragon which saved his life, wasted her last breaths to bring him near her massive body, effectively protecting him of further curses and warming him through the night, even in her death. It took his brother two days after the battle has ended to find him and one more to bring him home. What was left of him, at least. In the fog of his feverish dreams, sometimes he was able to hear his brother saying how glad he was to find him alive. That he was safe now. Sometimes he recognized the gentle touch of his mother, caressing his hair and telling him that he needed to make it, because his soul mate would need him and it was unfair to leave Tina alone. Once he replied that Porpentina would have a happy and complete life without him. He was too weak to notice that even though he had Porpentina Goldstein inked on his wrist now, not even him knew she would go with Tina as a nickname. 

Time passed and with it his nightmares got fainter and fainter, until such a time arrived when he couldn’t hear or feel anything more besides a deep grieving sensation. He wondered if he started to waste away and why it was so devastating sad to do so. He always thought death would be a peaceful affair and, even though it hurt him still, he always knew that he was going to die alone. With one last tremulous breath, he relaxed his body and calmed his mind, surrendering to the darkness and hoping that despairing feeling would not escort him to the afterlife.


	2. Porpentina

When she was younger, Tina had always wished upon her birthday cake for her soul mark to form in her wrist. For her soul mate to be born soon, so they wouldn’t be so mismatched regarding ages when they meet. A few weeks after Tina celebrated her eleventh anniversary, her mother fainted. Two agonizing months later, she died of dragon pox. Barely ten days later, her father was also dead because of the same illness. For her following anniversaries she was too focused in ensuring her sister would be able to finish school to worry about a lacking soul mark. As time went by, one or other healer at school or at MACUSA would take an interest in her bare wrist. Some theorized that she just didn’t have one mate, others said that it was not unheard of soul mates not being fated to be romantic partners but assume other types of relationships, that they could indeed be so much younger than her so she could raise them to be what they were meant to be. The less optimistic ones murmured that the most probable thing was that her soul mate has died at birth and lamented that such a brilliant witch as Porpentina would be fated to a short and unfulfilling life. Tina, however only had the presence of mind to ascend higher and higher, so she could guarantee Queenie’s future (she had to. Queenie’ own soul mark was even more worrisome than her absent one). She got high enough marks to enlist as an auror and promptly started her training. The salary would be good enough and there were high insurances for the family of deceased aurors in America. It wasn’t much, but it was the best she could do. She tried so hard to do what she could.

It actually worked for a while, but not long after she completed twenty years old she noticed her breathing getting shorter, her limbs getting weaker and she was getting tired faster and faster. She was exhausting herself with training and serving tables at a No-Maj restaurant at night, but she needed to be able to pay her rent and buy some food: all her wizarding money was spent ensuring Queenie’s education and one or other fancy object. Nothing too expensive, nothing entirely futile: a bit better dress for the ballroom, a slightly shinier hairpin for when she firstly was being courted, that new scarf so she wouldn’t freeze in the harsh winter. It wasn’t much, but Queenie never asked for more and always received the gifts with teary eyes. Tina tried hard, very hard. But it wasn’t enough. One day she felt her limbs go weak during her auror training. She had the presence of mind to sit on the floor of the training room and was aware that people were talking to her, but she just couldn’t understand them. The last though she had before blackness enveloped her was that Queenie, at least, had enough to finish the year at Ilvermorny.

When she finally woke up she had one soul mark on her wrist and one sister with a desperate tale to tell. Apparently she started to waste away and no one knew how to help her, since her wrist was bare. And then, from nowhere, one young and deeply sad man appeared and started babbling about just arriving in America and how he had her name on his wrist. He had agreed to gift her his magic and blood. 

“Why did he leave?” She asked her sister.

“I don’t know. But his mind Tina… He suffered so much thinking he would always be alone. He was so shocked to finally find you…”

“Do you think… Do you think he was disappointed by me? That he took a look and ran away?”

“Tina! Of course not! Who would not want you as their mate?”

With one fleeting look at her own wrist, Tina faintly replayed:

“Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, apparently.”

She focused on recovering at first. Two weeks into her recovery and she was better than she ever was. She was reassured time and time again that she could live her life fully now, that she would never waste away again because of the lack of a soul mate and should not worry. Her mate however, was probably destined to a slow but painless death if she did not reunite with him soon and gift him with her own magic and blood.

“Don’t worry dear. He now has your name on his skin. He will look for you when he is ready, or when he needs it.”

Tina tried not to worry, but something wasn’t sitting right inside her chest. However, there wasn’t much that she could do with all her scarce finances being directed at Queenie’s studies. She researched what she could about her soul mate, but all she could get was that he was British, from a very prominent wizardry family and that he was expelled from Hogwarts because he somehow endangered human lives with an experiment gone wrong, even though nobody really knew any details of that particular incident. Within one year, Tina hadn’t heard anything from her mate or the Scamander family, and so she focused on Queenie’s graduation. The next year, however, she got really agitated and started to save every single sickle she could, in order to travel to England and ask him directly why he did not want to know her. But she never could save enough, since with war came the recession and even with the additional earnings of Queenie at MACUSA life was never as difficult. The last Tina heard about Newton Artemis Fido Scamander he had joined the British army. She wondered if he was so disgusted by her that he preferred to die at the war, but tried to remain strong and hope for better days. Days spent laughing with him under a clear sky, talking about their life shared with their loved ones. At each day her hope dimmed a little bit more, but whose didn’t? They were at war, after all.

Then, one day, when the end of that blasted war could already be seen at the horizon, the high ranked and recently nominated war-hero Theseus Scamander himself arrived at her doorstep.

“I’m here on the behalf of my brother, Newton Scamander.” He said instead of introducing himself. “I know it is rude of me to presume that you are available, but we would be very grateful indeed if you would accompany me back to England.”

“Why did he send you? Why hadn’t he come himself?” She asked, half afraid her mate was so deeply disgusted that he could not even waste energy writing her a letter soliciting her presence.

“Newt was deeply wounded while serving some weeks ago. We believe you may be his last chance of surviving. Please come with me, I assure you we can reward you accordingly.”

“He is my soul mate. Knowing that he is alive and healthy is all the reward I need.” She answered, hastily packing some clothes with one flick of her wand. “Can my sister go with me?”

“I can guarantee you she will be very well received at our home.” Theseus replayed with a frown, already taking her suitcase while she packed Queenie’s.

Theseus had one portkey approved for them and it wasn’t long before them stepped on a deserted London street. He them extended his hands and apparated them to his mother’s state, where the woman was hastily doing some adjustments while inquiring a house elf.

“His fever is still high, Mistress Hippolyta”. The elf replied.

She was going to curse fate, apparently, when she noticed the recently arrived girls. Faster than her complexion would suggest, she approached them and asked:

“Which of you is Porpentina Goldstein?”

“I am.” Tina replied, for once not bothered by her lack of manners.

The woman promptly embraced her in a tight hug and start to sob on her shoulder.

“Thank Merlin! I’ve prayed so much you could be found! Please save my Newt!”

After many tears had fallen, some of Tina’s and some of Queenie’s alike, the woman (no, please call me Hippolyta) was finally composed enough to talk to them.

“We worried, of course we did. To be so old and to not have a soul mark is totally unheard of. When his professor told him that maybe you were just very very far, we did not have the heart to stop his travels. Everything he ever wanted was to find you.”

“So why hadn’t he stayed?” She asked, unable to hold her frustrations.

Hippolyta appeared to be shocked by her question and took some seconds to start to breathe again. It was Theseus who answered.

“When he came back from America he had your name on his wrist. He said to us to not to worry, that either you or him could find each other if needed. That you were better without him in your life. I tried to ask further, but he appeared to be so hurt when the subject came to that I figured you two had talked and you had decided to go into separate ways. I confess I was surprised to discover that you two didn’t trade blood and magic but…”

“I was wasting away when he found me. He gifted me my live back, and then left. I’ve never even seen him.” Tina busted out.

“Do you want to see him dear?” Hippolyta asked. Tina was on her feet before she could nod.

She was escorted to a wide room. In the middle of said room, three house elves were alternating in between tasks around a bed that was probably bigger than Tina’s room at New York. In the middle of said bed, looking frail and so small, was one man with a face almost paler than the white sheets in which he was lying, with the freckles on his skin and reddish hair highly contrasting with his otherwise gray complexion. Tina observed as one elf wiped away the sweat that was gathering on his brow and asked herself if that wasn’t her job, after all.

“How long has he been like this?” Tina asked.

“Theseus brought him home three weeks ago. He has been getting worse lately.”

Tina wanted so much to ask why no one had informed her of his condition that she had to bite her tongue to not do exactly that. To remember that she still had no place in the lives of any Scamander.

“What can I do for him?” She asked.

“Your blood and a little bit of magic may be the only thing to help him now. I know it is usually a lot to ask but…”

“He is my soul mate. And it is not as if he hadn’t already done it for me.” Tina replied while taking a syringe from a nearby chest of drawers. She collected just some drops herself and gave it to the first elf she saw. The small creature took less than three seconds to expertly sterilize and inject it on Newton’s arm vein. A little more hesitantly, Tina approached the bed and pushed her mate’s fringe from his sweaty brow.

“I’ve waited so much for you… Why do you keep me waiting and waiting?”

Not hearing any type of answer, not that she was expecting any, she slowly approached him and kissed his temple, before kissing his check and finally depositing a brief kiss to his lips. She more sensed than saw the flick of magic connecting their mouths, but could still see faint traces of smoke after she distanced her face some centimeters from his. When she came fully to herself, she heard both the door of the room closing and the elves apparating away. She was left alone with her mate, and now they were as good as bonded, even if the official papers were not completed and no legal attachments existed. Slowly she sat on the edge of his bed, took one wet cloth that was lying in a nearby pot filled with cold water and started to gently wipe the sweat away from his brow and neck, pleased to see that some of his freckles had started to blend in the new gained color of his skin. 


	3. Waking up and not seeing you

Tina spent the following days alternating between sitting at Newton’s (oh, he would like it very much if you would call him Newt, dear) bedside and talking about him with Hippolyta. At the moment, she was just looking at a picture of a teenager Newt, who was shyly smiling to the camera.

“Such an awkward smile…” Queenie murmured, behind her.

“Am I projecting, Queenie? To be able to sense so much sadness behind it?” Tina asked.

“I don’t think so. When I saw him that time he appeared to be so desperately lonely…”

“I still don’t understand why he didn’t wait for me to wake up. Why he didn’t give us just one chance to know each other…”

“We will just have to ask him when he wakes up.” Queenie replied, taking the picture from her sister hands. “It is a beautiful smile, though.”

Tina agreed. But she also suspected she was biased.

Two days after Tina arrived on England, Newt finally opened his eyes. He was delirious, not fully conscious, but that moment changed everything.

Tina was in the room when that happened, along Queenie who was keeping her company and Hippolyta, who was currently softly talking to him when he stirred. Hippolyta was just saying that he needed to be strong, that he would not dare to leave Tina alone, when Newt murmured that ‘She gonna… Happy and com-complete life wi’out me’, before briefly opening his eyes and then loosing himself to the fever again. Tina was so astonished by the timbre of his voice and the green/blue of his eyes that it took her a moment to notice the anguished sobs of her sister.

“Queenie! Queenie what happened?”

“Oh! It is my fault! It is my fault! I’m so sorry!” She was saying again and again between sobs.

“What is your fault dear?” Hippolyta asked from the bedside.

It took many minutes to calm Queenie down so she could tell what happened.

“When he came to New York I was so shocked to see that he truly existed and how deeply sad and lonely he was that I somehow gave him the impression that he would ruin Tina’s life. I’ve just started my training in Oclumence and must have indivertibly let some thoughts escape into his mind when I tried to read it…”

“What did you think Queenie?” Tina asked.

“I don’t really remember! But he seems to think that you would bond him out of obligation and let your career be destroyed by staying beside him. I swear I never thought that! Oh dear…”

And with that Queenie started to cry again. Tina was a more than a little hurt by her sister’s admission, but she knew Queenie would never mean to hurt her. The equals pulls to soothe her sister and to let all the hurt out left her frozen on the spot. It was Hippolyta’s mournful murmur that brought her back to the present.

“Oh, my sweet boy. How could you be so silly? From all the terrible things in the world you take care for why would you doubt just your soul mate?” She asked her unconscious son. Then with a gentle kiss to his temple, she continued in an equally wrecked and low voice. “I didn’t know you were hurting so deeply. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Newt stirred under his mother’s touch, but didn’t open his eyes again. Hippolyta let a watery smile appear on her thin lips, stood up and left the room, taking Queenie with her, with promises of tea and a pastry. Before leaving, she said to Tina:

“Newt has a heart big enough for the whole world. Unfortunately, very few have made space for him in theirs. I’m glad you are here and I do hope you would stay long enough to get to know him.”

“I do want the chance to.” Tina replayed.

“Good.” Hippolyta replied, and then left the two of them alone.

In the following hours any touch besides Tina’s made Newt cry out and any flicker of magic would create tears on his skin, so the house elves were prohibited to come to the room. Hippolyta and Queenie maintained their distance, even though Tina could sense her sister seeking news on her mind every hour or so.

That night Newt’s fever got high to the point Tina got all the sheets that covered his body out of the bed and divested him of his shirt, so she could dab his chest and neck with cold water. In the frantic task to maintain his temperature down, she saw but didn’t register the multitude of scars in his chest and arms, or how deep, wide and nasty was the wound on his stomach. Ironically, she would only think about it in the next morning, when a few hours after his fever broke one of the oldest elves came by to give her what she needed to redress the wound and change both Newt’s clothes and the sweaty soaked sheets.

“Can’t we do anything for him? No potion, no medicine?” She asked the elf.

“Nasty course, Mistress Tina. Master Newt too weak. Better if Master Newt recover by himself.” The elf replied.

“Can’t he take anything for the pain, at least?” She insisted.

“When Master Newt wake. Not long now.” The elf replied. “Not worry, Master Newt used to it.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, dreading the answer.

“No magical healing for the unmarked.” The elf replied. Before Tina had the chance to ask just how many times Newt got hurt before he went to America, the elf asked her if it could go to the kitchen to finish the broth. Tina didn’t know anything about any broth, or why that specific elf must finish it, but she nodded. The elf vanished though the door, without using its magic.

Not even half an hour later, Newt started to stir on his bed, whining softly when he agitated his wound. Tina was at his side on a heartbeat.

“Hey, take it easy. You’re going to be alright.” She whispered.

“Where… What…” He tried to ask, but his dry throat only made him cough weakly. Tina helped him to sit up and put an extra pillow on his back to support him.

“At your mother’s state. You were wounded in battle.”

“Where’s Dalva?” He asked, in a very hoarse voice.

“Here, small sips.” She said while nearing a small cup with water to his lips. After he drank some, she asked him.

“Who is Dalva?”

“My…”

It is not like she wanted to know if her soul mate has found himself a girlfriend, but he was so desperate to know of her wellbeing that Tina couldn’t just ignore it.

“She’s a dragon. Ukrainian Ironbelly.” He replied, looking at a fixed point on her shoulder.

At that moment Tina didn’t know if she was relieved or burdened. She wanted so much to tell him that Dalva, however she was, was safe and unharmed… 

“You were found under the wings of a dead Ironbelly, Newt. I’m so sorry…”

One small tear escaped from his left eye, and Newt hastily dried it with his left hand. In that moment he focused on his wrist and then looked properly at Tina for the first time.

“Ms. Goldstein?”

“Please call me Tina.” She replied with a smile. 

Although it would appear impossible to do so, Newt appeared to retreat into himself even more. After some very awkward moments, he asked in a very subdued voice:

“What are you doing here?”

“Your brother brought me. You were wasting away.”

Newt looked down at his own body. He was with a massive headache, could feel a burning pain on his stomach and his limbs were uncharacteristic heavy, but he was quite sure he wasn’t wasting away now.

“Have you completed the bond?” He asked.

“I had to. You were dying.” She replied.

“Why are you still here?” He asked in an even more subdued tone, almost like it hurt him to talk.

“I want to know you.” She replied, on the verge of tears herself.

“No, you don’t.” He whispered.

“Newt… I…”

“Please go.” He replied.

“Newt! I truly want to…”

“Just go.” He said, turning his face further away from her.

She was searching in herself something to make him change his mind, when suddenly the elf from before arrived, bringing a pot filled with… Well, broth, apparently.

“Janet brought broth to Master Newt. Please eat.” The elf said.

Newt turned his head to the little creature and Tina was instantly envious of the fact the he would meet the elf’s eyes but not hers. He tried to grab the pot with one trembling hand, but the elf gently stopped him.

“Please let Janet help.” The little elf said. In that moment Tina could see nothing but deep adoration in the elf’s eyes.

Somehow feeling like she was intruding in a very private moment, Tina left the room. From the closing door, she could hear the elf saying:

“Master Newt get strong, so Janet can bring pain reliever potion?”

“I’m fine Janet.”

“Mistress Tina asked Janet to bring the potion. Janet bring it. Janet want Master Newt to feel better.”

From the closed door Tina heard Newt saying again that he was fine, that he was just tired. She didn’t wait to hear if he would take the potion or not. Somehow, it just didn’t matter when she heard the fond tone he was using. 


	4. A professor's lesson

Newt would be always awfully tense if Tina was in his room when he was awake. As he got stronger, and therefore got to stay awake more and more time, she took her time to know the state and give him the opportunity to relax at his own home. She rather felt like she was intruding, but both Hippolyta and Queenie insisted they stayed one week more and Tina didn’t have the heart or the will to argue. That thought was fast changing when she heard Queenie harassing her bedridden soul mate who was for the first time in weeks allowed to lie in a reclining chair at the garden.

“Please… Just…”

“I do hope you understand that it is not only your life you are destroying by putting her away, Mr. Scamander. AT LEAST LOOK ME IN THE EYE!”

As soon as Tina heard that, she got the impulse to run to them and demand her sister to apologize to him, but Newt’s words froze her.

“She is better without me.”

“You don’t know it. You don’t know her!”

“I know it. My soul mark is grey!”

“You didn’t ever give her the chance to know you!”

“I can’t.”

Queenie must have heard the honesty in that sentence directly from his mind, because her first urge was to go near him and embrace him in a desperate hug. She was gently but eagerly pushed way by both his hands on her shoulders.

She looked at his face for some seconds. He looked resolutely at the floor. After a small eternity, she spoke:

“True love is a scary thing Mr. Scamander, but you must create the courage necessary to live it, or you will never live at all. In the end, you will kill her too.”

Queenie then deposited a clearly unwanted but very much needed kiss to his temple and turned to leave. When Tina could finally see her face it was covered in tears. But before she could even open her mouth to comfort her sister, Queenie said that he needed her the most. The blond witch walked way before she understood what she meant by that.

The sound of a very low sob broke Tina back to the present, just to witness Newt basically doubling over himself in his chair. That time there was nothing stopping her from running to his side and half embracing him, half supporting him to a more injury-friendly position.

In between heartbreaking quiet and contained sobs, Newt told her that he did want to try. In the middle of her emotional turmoil, Tina only could bring herself to gently wipe his tears away and say that she would like that, very much so. She didn’t notice her own tears until after Newt was again tucked in his own bed, in an exhausted sleep.

Newt awoke next to the morning sun rays and the news that if he took it easy for the following days, he may be able to take a healing potion in the weekend. The fact that this information was delivered by Albus Dumbledore himself made it very difficult to follow the advice.

“ProProfessor! What? How? What…”

“Calm down, my boy. I’ve came with some news for you. But firstly of all I want to know ABOUT you. How are you doing?”

“I’m… I’m fine I suppose. Thank you for your concern.”

“Coming from anyone else I would find it very difficult to believe giving the extent of your injuries. But since it is you I think I wouldn’t be wrong in assuming that you really believe that. I’ve heard you found your soul mate. Actually, I’ve already met her. Lovely girl, your Porpentina.”

“She isn’t…” Newt tried to correct, but Dumbledore interrupted him.

“Of course she is. Let me be very clear to you, because somehow I think you can understand the intricacies of love for every species in the world, but your own. She is your soul mate because she loves you. You are her soul mate because no matter what you do, you are you and you can’t be helped but love her. It is not the other way around.”

Dumbledore saw with some amusement Newt’s ears getting a violent shade of red. Reading (but not really) the young wizard’s mind, he continued:

“Newton, I can assure you that she loves you, just as much as you already love her. And you don’t need to be afraid. It is very difficult to truly disappoint your soul mate even if you are trying. I would know.”

“Professor?”

“My own soul mate is everything that I’m against in the world Newton. And the love that I feel is just as strong, if not bigger, than my disappointment. We parted ways, but there isn’t a day that I wish things were different. Porpentina, however, seems like just the type of companion you would require.”

“I… My mark is grey.”

“Are you color blind boy? It is inky black.”

Newt looked at his wrist and it was still in a very light gray tone.

“Now let us stop with all this sentimentality so I can tell you what I’ve came to tell. I’m not certain if you are aware of this, but you being in the battle field in the last month may very well have earned us the war.”

At Newt’s utterly confused look, Dumbledore carried on:

“Well, my boy. As you probably know better than I do, Ironbellies are very protective of their packs. So it happens that in trying to protect you many of them had counter-attacked instead of flying away, efficiently destroying a significant portion of the enemy’s forces. They want to give you a medal for war heroism, my boy.”

“There aren’t heroes in the war, Professor.” Newt murmured, half obscured by his own hair.

“I agree. Let us avoid speaking about it near Theseus, though.”

“How many of them survived?”

Dumbledore got awfully quiet for some seconds, pondering his next words.

“You are the only human survivor, Newton. Last I’ve heard, a pack of six Ironbellies was seen traveling to the north. There is a good chance that they are yours.”

“They aren’t mine. They never were.”

“Sure, just like Porpentina.”

Newt was so divided between rolling his eyes and being respectful to his professor that he almost missed what said professor spoke next.

“You’ve made something impressive, boy. You’ve shown the world that it is possible to peacefully live along one of the most dangerous and untamable creatures. That opens one opportunity that for centuries is awaited. The Ministry wants you to write about magical creatures and how to proceed so we would be able to live along them instead of exterminating them. They want for you to find if they can be useful and therefore preserved. It is a good opportunity my boy. It’s the type of business that allows real heroes to appear.”

Newt didn’t answer, but from his teary eyes Dumbledore got all the answers he needed. He gently patted Newt’s knee and said, while standing up and turning to the door:

“I will let them know that you will look into it once you are recovered from your injuries. I think a couple of months in the company of your beautiful soul mate will suffice? Oh! I almost forgot! There are nine house elves that lost their masters in that battle and have nowhere to go. I’ve already offered them a place at Hogwarts, but two of them would very much prefer to serve you. I will let them know that they can come to the state.”

Before Newt was able to answer that he did not have any use for one house elf, even less for seven (counting the five that already lived in the state) Dumbledore was gone. When Tina shyly stuck her head in the opening in the door to ask him if he would eat any breakfast, Newt only asked her if she needed any help with domestic duties in New York. It took long seconds of Tina gapping to him for her to respond that Newt shouldn’t be helping anyone with any type of duty for the following days, and therefore focus on healing. After he had composed himself enough to explain the upcoming two house elves to his possession, Tina burst out laughing. 


	5. We are enough

In the following days, Newt found himself in the very peculiar situation of having nothing to do and altogether too much available and eager help. That is to say, he had seven house elves fighting between themselves to do something for him, like bring him lunch, help him to change his clothes and, on one memorable occasion, trying to cut his toenails against his will. Now, Newt had a very gentle soul and an even gentler heart, but he was bedridden, nervous and overly tired of being bedridden and nervous: mainly because being forced to stay in bed meant that he couldn’t run away from his insecurities (aka Tina) and that made him more nervous and insecure, and wanting to run away even harder. He was also becoming strong enough that he may be able to take a healing potion, what would paradoxically weaken him considerably for the next days (the potion would connect to his magic to heal the wounds, sucking a lot of energy, nutrients and strength from his body). He so didn’t want to imagine his elves fighting each other to help him to wipe his ass!

At the precise moment he thought that Tina knocked on his door. When she opened it Newt could see Queenie at her back, giggling madly, probably having just heard what he had thought. Brilliant, that was everything he needed. When the door closed on Queenie’s still smiling face, Newt finally diverted his eyes from the closed door to shyly look at Tina’s elbow, which was attached to a tray carrying juice, bread and a bowl of soup.

“I hope you don’t mind too much, but I brought you some lunch.” She said.

“How?” He asked, for a moment letting his curiosity get free.

She looked at him like he asked the weirdest of questions. He stammered and tried to amend what he said:

“I mean… The house elves… Didn’t you…”

“Oh! Janet, Frederick, Lounny and Binny were discussing who was better suited to prepare you pancakes and ended up in a flour fight this morning. And then Rudolf, Maximilian and Jenifer started to fight among themselves because they all wanted to clean the mess. It got so out of control that I summoned them to go around the city and to ask those that can to donate some clothing. Janet is now cleaning the kitchen, while the other ones are repairing the clothes so they can be given for those who need it.”

Newt could only gap at her.

“I hope you don’t mind. I know they are not technically mine to order about, but your mother isn’t here and they were just making me crazy! And the temperature is dropping fast outside… I just thought it could be a better way to spend their energy.”

“Yes, of course. But you don’t need to…” Newt shyly gestured to the tray in her hands.

Tina took some seconds to smile, and then said.

“I don’t mind. I like to spend time with you. That and I didn’t want to let any elf know that you were in need of nourishment. I’m afraid that it may start a war.”

Newt smiled, but it was a small thing.

“I’m sorry. I never mean any trouble, things just… Happen.” He said, while accepting his trail and placing it over his legs.

“It is born out of love Newt, I’m amused by it, really.” 

Newt nodded, Tina wasn’t convinced.

“Newt… I don’t want to impose but… Maybe we should talk?”

Newt was in the process to put a piece of bread into his mouth, but he stopped before he choked to death and deposited it back on his trail. Understanding the gesture, Tina took the trail back and put it at a nearby nightstand.

“You said you wanted to try?” Tina asked, shyly sitting at the space that Newt made for her in the bed.

“I want to but… I can never be what you want Tina.”

“What do you think I want?” She asked.

“I…” Newt started to say, but couldn’t complete his sentence. Instead, he raised his soul mark. “It is gray. Do you know what that means?”

“Unrequited. But I’m not asking you to love me, am I? We could just talk? Try to be friends?”

“I’m certain that you’d be a wonderful friend Tina but… What?”

“What what?”

“You said that you are not asking me to love you. Like I… But I… I…”

Newt couldn’t finish his sentence again. Tina found it fitting to raise her soul mark this time.

“Until some years ago I didn’t have a soul mark of my own and I thought that I didn’t have a soul mate. But here you are now, saying that you can’t be what I want just because your soul mark is gray. Well, mine is black, do you know what THAT means?”

At Newt’s silence she kept going.

“Can I touch you, Newt?”

Newt shyly nodded. Tina took that opportunity to approach her hand to his unkempt hair and gently caress it. It was a strange thing, the touch of your soul mate. It was both the ultimate source of comfort and deeply familiar. Confronted with the strength of such a gentle gesture, all that Newt could do was closing his eyes.

“I’ve seen how you talk to the elves, I’ve seen how they love you. For Lewis sake, Lounny and Binny choose you as their master when they could be free. I’ve seen the young you shyly smiling in old photographs. I’ve heard how about Theseus found you under the wings of an Ironbelly. I feel your heart pulsing into my soul mark. I feel your pain in my own soul. Of course I want to know you. I think I may already love you.”

With his eyes still closed, Newt tentatively retuned the gesture, caressing first her hair, then her cheek. 

“I’ve longed for you my entire life. If you know me I find me lacking I don’t know if…”

“I don’t know if I’m enough either. But I’m willing to try. I’m hopeful that if we can just really talk to each other we may find a way. I’m not expecting anything besides knowing you, right?”

“But what if I am? What if I want more?” He asked.

“Well, my soul mark IS black. I think you have a right to.”

This time Newt smile was real, albeit still small. For Tina it was good enough for now. She slowly approached her face to his and breathed into his space for some seconds. When he inclined his face in her direction she deposited the kindest of kisses into his lips. He kissed her back, tentatively at first, but soon the gesture grew in confidence. When they parted for air the atmosphere was charged with magic and both Newt and Tina couldn’t help but giggle at the intensity of it.

“You need to eat something, Newt. The last think I want is to invoke the elves’ fury by keeping you from lunch.”

Newt smiled. It was crooked and shy thing, but it infused Tina’s soul with warmth. He accepted the trail back and ate his food. And they talked, and they laughed, and maybe they fell a little bit more in love with each other. The next day Newt took the healing potion and spent two days more in bed, unable to stay awake for more than fifteen minutes at time. Tina bravely kept the elves at bay and took care of him herself. On the third day, Newt was weak, but walking on his own two feet. Tina stayed one more month with him in England and then traveled back to America. Newt went with her. They needed somewhere to begin writing his book, and America looked as good as anywhere, after all. The day his feet touched American soil for the second time, his soul mark turned black.

**Author's Note:**

> R&R?


End file.
